Crossing Lines
by Constance1
Summary: Sequel to Deceiving Grace. As Harry continues to hunt Voldemort for Draco's freedom, he begins to question which side is the right one...
1. Chapter 1

Harry ran a tired hand over his face, the skin dry and papery to the touch. His stomach grumbled in annoyance as another meal time passed and another meal was skipped in favour of pouring over the latest correspondence from Remus.

"Harry," it said in quick rushed scrawling. "Voldemort has been spotted on the outskirts of the Northern battle camp. Don't know how reliable the source is. Be careful."

Harry threw the dirty scrap of parchment onto the floor and pushed back his chair.

He'd already been at the Northern camp for a week with no sign of Voldemort - or _any _suspicious activity.

He walked over to the front flap of his small tent and gazed outside. The night was dark and still, the stars hidden beneath a thick blanket of clouds.

Sometimes he could see the far away lights of Azkaban across the water, but not tonight. The fog was too heavy, the light from the stars extinguished.

Harry squeezed his eyes closed, trying to shut out the memories.

"Draco…" the name broke free from his dry lips, seeming to come directly from his shattered heart.

Harry's eyes snapped open again as a bright flash of white suddenly lit up the encampment.

He bolted from the tent, wand at the ready.

"Harry!"

Harry turned as Henrik, one of the many fighters against Voldemort, motioned to him.

"Harry, I saw him!" the man gasped, eyes still flicking around the now dark camp.

"Who? Where?" Harry demanded harshly, grabbing the man's forearm.

"A Death Eater, with the black robes and white mask… I saw him…!"

Harry let the man go in disappointment, wand still at the ready as he looked around. It may not be Voldemort, but a captured Death Eater may provide useful information.

"Stay here," Harry whispered to the trembling man.

Harry ran to where he thought the source of the flash had come from and hid behind a large oak tree.

There he was, one lone Death Eater silhouetted against the night sky.

Harry burst forth from the trees without a moment of hesitation.

"Stupefy!"

A burst of light flew from Harry's outstretched wand and hit the tall robed figure squarely in the back.

Harry ran over as the Death Eater fell to the ground.

He kicked the Death Eater over onto his back and snatched the horrible white mask from the face below him.

Harry gasped in shock, then rage took over, filling his entire being.

"Avada kedavra!"

The killing curse spilled from Harry Potter's lips with such hate and conviction that the entire clearing was lit with the bright green flash of death.

Malcolm Braddock lay dead, his blank eyes staring upwards in shock, as Harry let out a cry of pain and fell to his knees.

* * * * * *

Remus sighed again and paced up and down the dirty tent floor.

"He could've provided extremely useful information. I would've thought that _you _of all people-"

"He wouldn't have provided us with anything but lies Remus," Harry said darkly.

He had called for Remus the moment he had regained coherent thought, the rage gone from his body, replaced only with the same emptiness he had been living with for the past two years.

The murder he had been planning since that day in court didn't make him feel any different - better or otherwise.

"Harry…" Remus stopped and turned towards the young man, nearly twenty years of age now. "We could've used Veriteserum on him."

Harry snorted. "Do you know of anyone who carries all the ingredients for that anymore? Voldemort isn't stupid, he cleaned out every good wizard's stock of those ingredients long ago."

"Well, I have two ingredients. We just need to find others, like us, who are hiding them away. Saving them."

Harry stood up impatiently and turned away.

"I don't have time to chase magical herbs around the countryside Remus. Only Voldemort matters. It's only a matter of time before he shows himself again."

Harry turned back towards his ex-professor.

"He's the only thing that matters."

Remus wasn't sure if Harry was speaking of the Dark Lord or Draco now. He didn't question it.

"Alright Harry," he conceded tiredly. "I'll keep you updated on any news."

Remus lifted his cloak from the chair back in front of him and put a warm hand on Harry's thin shoulder.

"Try to eat something once in awhile won't you?" he smiled.

Harry nodded, his green eyes finally meeting Remus.' "I will."

"I don't want you fainting from hunger when Voldemort does pull out his surprise attack."

Harry smiled a little and nodded once more. "I promise."

Remus smiled again then left the tent, letting the green flap fall back into place behind him.

Harry's smile quickly faded as he was left alone once more. He didn't want to sleep. His dreams of Draco were so real that he woke up every morning half expecting to see the beautiful blond beside him.

His dreams ranged from erotic to terrifying to heart-wrenching replays of the last time he'd seen him…

Harry hadn't been with another man since Draco. Now that the wizarding world knew of his… preferences, he was never at a loss for pro-offered company from other males. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't betray Draco like that, have any pleasure while his lover was locked away in Azkaban.

He loved him more than ever, and prayed that Draco would not be destroyed by Azkaban when he finally got him out of there.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry stared at the motionless body at his feet, breathing hard, his hands slick with sweat and trembling. His wand shaking in his grasp.

Malcolm Baddock lie still, wide shocked eyes staring blankly upward towards Harry.

The encampment was eerily still, the wild flash of green death that had burst forth from Harry's wand had diminished, leaving Harry alone with the consequences of his sudden rage.

Harry let out a cry of pain and dropped to his knees, wand falling from his fingertips.

"I'm no better than them," he thought miserably. "I've _killed _someone."

A tear squeezed out from between his clamped eyelids.

"Bravo!"

Harry's eyes snapped open and his head jerked upwards in surprise.

Voldemort stood at the edge of the clearing, a sick smile on his pale snake-like face, white hands clapping sardonically.

"You!" Harry gasped, nearly choking on the sudden intake of breath.

Voldemort bowed, still smiling. "The one and only, Mr Potter," he said silkily.

Harry wanted to jump to his feet, to kill this man - this _thing _- in front of him. More hatred than he had ever felt for Malcolm boiled within him. He knew the killing curse would be even easier this time…

But he couldn't move. He was frozen. His body betraying him.

"Speechless Mr Potter?" Voldemort enunciated each 's' with a slithering hiss as he moved towards him.

Harry opened his mouth, but no sound would come out. Every nerve in his body tensed and pulsed, the blood draining from his face as Voldemort moved ever closer.

The Dark Lord stood over Harry and looked down into frightened emerald eyes.

"I believe you have something to ask me Harry…"

"NO!" Harry screamed, sitting bolt upright in bed, sweat coating his entire body.

The still night and soft chirping of crickets was his only answer.

Harry looked around him uneasily, his heart rate slowly calming, his tightened fists relaxing.

"Fuck…" he muttered, running a nervous hand through his messy dark hair and throwing the tangled blankets aside.

Harry stood and walked to the tent flap, his wand in hand.

He peered outside into the darkness, not really expecting to see anything.

He'd only been asleep for a couple of hours before this new dream attacked him. It was only two nights ago that Harry had killed Malcolm in this very camp, and obviously his conscience was having a hard time dealing with it.

Harry let the tent flap fall back into place.

He knew there was no point in trying to sleep again tonight, so he pulled on his worn black boots and slipped outside into the night.

It was cool outside and Harry shivered slightly without a cloak as he wandered slowly to the cliff edge above the water on the outskirts of camp.

Azkaban's twinkling lights glittered far away from across the black waters. The surrounding guards that hovered around the perimeter of the old building invisible to the naked eye.

Harry's tense and rigid body slowly relaxed as he sat staring at the prison.

"Draco?" He swallowed emotionally and continued. "I don't know how much longer I can do this. I need you with me, everything that I am is screaming to have you near. I want to touch you… I need to know you're okay. This is killing me…"

Harry broke off and closed his eyes.

"…It's been so long. I've left you in there for so long…"

Harry tried in vain to shut out images of an emaciated and broken Draco, lying in some dirty cold prison cell.

Harry let out a sob and dropped his head into his hands, pushing his palms against closed eyes.

"I wish it had been me," he whispered. "I wish they had taken me…"

Harry remained sitting on the grassy cliff edge until the sun rose. Re-living memories of his short time with Draco, how they fell in love and how the beautiful blonde looked the day they took him away from him.

"Uh Mr Potter?"

Harry blinked, coming out of his reverie, and turned to look at Henrik.

"Yes Henrik?" Harry said, voice gravelly with lack of sleep. He rubbed his sore neck as he stood up, his muscles cold and stiff from sitting for so long.

"Dumbledore is here for you," Henrik replied nervously, always a little awe-struck around Harry.

Harry smiled at the poor man and clapped him on the shoulder. "Thanks, I'm coming."

The two walked back towards the camp, cleverly hidden amongst the dense forest edge.

"How is your wife?" Harry asked, trying to think of something to say to the anxious man at his side.

"V-v-very well sir, thank you." Henrik sounded pleased. "We're expecting a baby brother or sister for our little Daniel any day now."

"Congratulations. Let me know, won't you?" Harry smiled once more as he left him, heading towards his own tent.

"I will, sir," Henrik grinned. He couldn't wait to tell his wife that Harry Potter had asked after her. They were a sweet couple, both Muggle born, and both on Harry's side - no matter what the greater wizarding society thought.

Harry smiled when he saw his old headmaster standing in the dingy tent, frowning at the mess.

"I would've cleaned if I knew you were coming Professor," Harry joked.

Dumbledore turned towards Harry with a smile. He rarely saw Harry's teasing side these days. He didn't like how thin and empty the boy looked as of late. Harry lacked that fire and passion that had fueled him in the early days of searching for Voldemort. Now he looked as though he wanted to give up on everything and just waste away.

"Harry my boy," Dumbledore continued to smile as he quickly came forward and embraced Harry in greeting.

"What's the news?" Harry asked when they had both settled down on the wooden chairs next Harry's small dining table.

"Firstly, I'm not telling you anything until you eat this." Dumbledore produced a basket filled with roast chicken, potatoes, carrots, gravy and a bread roll.

Harry took in the steaming food with a smile. "Alright, I'll eat while you talk," he reluctantly agreed.

Dumbledore smiled in satisfaction. He magically produced a goblet of milk as well before beginning.

Harry began to dig into the spread eagerly. He had skipped a few too many meals in the past week.

"The Ministry doesn't believe you were in the wrong with Baddock," the headmaster began.

Harry snorted. "I'm not going to be punished for killing a known Death Eater? How kind of them."

"Yes, well, I was a bit worried about their reaction, but it seems to be fine."

Harry's blood boiled in anger. How dare the Ministry even consider any course of action other than to thank him. Here he was fighting every day against the Dark Lord and the Ministry can't bring themselves to even thank him for his help in bringing down such a terror towards all of wizard kind.

"I know, Harry," Dumbledore spoke gently, trying to ease the boy's obvious irritation. "Just ignore them and continue what you're doing. Remember, in the end it's not for them that you're doing this is it?"

Harry softened. "No, of course not."

"Remember our plan, Harry. Please try to keep your anger in check the next time."

Harry nodded and gulped down a mouthful of the delicious cold milk.

"I will, sir," Harry promised. "Too much is resting on it."

Dumbledore smiled and scratched his long nose. "Not too much else to report I'm afraid. Since Baddock's appearance, it seems the Death Eaters are afraid to show their faces."

Harry grinned in triumph around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

Dumbeldore chuckled. "Hopefully Voldemort's minions are getting a little anxious about their safety, which means the Dark Lord may show himself soon."

Harry put down his fork and swallowed. "I just need to know where," he said solemnly.

"I know my boy." Dumbledore brushed his hands on his lap and stood up. "But, that I'm afraid is still a mystery. You may want to stay here for awhile Harry since Voldemort now knows your whereabouts. And it's you he will want to see."

"You're leaving already?" Harry made to stand.

"No, finish your meal, Harry," Dumbledore waved him down. "I'm a busy man, but I'll return soon. I'll just let myself out."

"Goodbye Professor."

"I'll be in touch." And with that Dumbledore was gone.

Harry forced himself to eat as much as he could, the plate seemed to magically refill itself any time he even came close to finishing it off.

With a full stomach, and with the thought that this may all come to an end very soon, Harry was able to finally drift off into an undisturbed sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N - Someone asked why Harry can't visit Draco in Azkaban, and the answer is that they don't allow visitors. It's a security measure for that prison, installed so Voldemort or any Death Eaters can't disgiuse themselves and get inside the building. It holds the wizarding world's worst criminals, so in my universe, no visitors allowed.

* * *

"Where the fuck is he?!" Harry yelled in frustration, kicking a nearby wooden bucket with enough force to smash it into pieces.

"Calm down, Harry," Jack said worriedly.

Harry turned to look at his friend in despair. "I don't know how much more of this I can take Jack…"

Jack rose from his crouched position by the fire and quickly embraced his young friend. The ex-inmate was still the same mischievous and fun-loving man that he had been in prison - only healthier and happier, and with his beloved by his side.

Alice's forehead wrinkled in concern as she watched Harry fall apart in her husband's arms. She had grown quite close to the boy over the past couple of years and was shocked at his poor appearance when he showed up at their door only an hour ago.

Harry sobbed in Jack's arms and clung to him for dear life.

Jack only held him tighter, knowing the torment Harry must be feeling to be showing so much emotion to him. The Harry he had known had been slowly replaced by a cold and stoic stranger, stubborn in his refusal to do anything but look for Voldemort and rescue Draco, and now… He feared Harry was close to the brink of just giving up on everything - including life.

Alice quietly left the room, closing the door softly behind her. She knew Harry would want to be alone with Jack, and hopefully he could provide some comfort to the young wizard.

"Shh… Harry," Jack stroked Harry's hair with one hand. "We'll find him. I swear. He can't hide forever, he likes the attention too much."

Harry tried to control his erratic breathing. "How much longer must I wait though?" he said pitifully into Jack's broad chest. "Two years is so long… Draco-"

Harry's voice broke on his lover's name and he tried to squeeze his eyes shut against the fresh onslaught of tears.

"I know kiddo, I know," Jack murmured in sympathy. He knew how it felt to be torn away from the one you loved.

Jack moved Harry over to the lounge and sat him down before proceeding to pace the floor.

"Okay, what we need is a fresh approach. Clearly waiting for the bastard to show himself is not working."

Harry nodded and wiped at his tear-stained face, embarrassed now at his outburst of emotion.

"Maybe we need to lure him out of hiding," Jack suggested.

Harry shook his head. "We've tried that. We've baited him and all he does is send his pathetic followers to do his dirty work."

"What did you bait him with?"

"Myself, others that he wants to get his hands on…"

"What about Dumbledore?" Jack questioned intently.

Harry looked up sharply. "No…"

Jack continued to pace, the plan forming in his mind. "Of course! Voldemort wants you, that's obvious, but he doesn't see you as a potential threat. Not like Dumbledore."

Jack turned to face him, eyes glowing.

"You've said it yourself, Voldemort just thinks you're running on luck, while Dumbledore poses a real threat. People call him the greatest wizard of our time, and that must really piss old snake-face off!"

Harry half smiled, considering.

"Do you think Dumbledore would go for it?" Jack inquired.

"I…I don't know…" Harry massaged his aching temples, a migraine building. "I suppose he would, but… I don't want to endanger him…"

"He's the great Dumbledore, Harry," Jack grinned. "I'm sure he can take care of himself. Besides we can have back-up there to protect him."

Harry shook his head. "No, then Voldemort wouldn't show up. It would have to be one on one."

Jack frowned. "That doesn't sound like a good idea…"

"No." Harry stood, feeling slightly dizzy from fatigue and his ever growing headache.

Jack quickly steadied him, grabbing his arm.

"Why don't you spend the night, kiddo?" Jack suggested in concern. "It's been a tough week."

Harry acquiesced easily, knowing he was in no shape to make it back to the Northern Camp on his own. Besides, he was tired of being there. It had been two weeks since Dumbledore's visit and no progress had been made. All was quiet on the Death Eater activity front.

Jack guided him from the room and up the stairs.

"I don't want to put Dumbledore in any danger on my account," Harry said, exhaustion lacing his every word.

"We'll think of something else," Jack agreed, leading Harry into the guest room. "Remus will be here in the morning, he'll have some ideas."

Harry nodded, then his eyes opened wide.

"Wait!" he exclaimed. "What if we tell Voldemort that it _is _going to be Dumbledore waiting for him - but then it's not!"

Jack frowned. "You mean like a decoy?"

"Sort of," Harry sat down on the edge of the bed, his mind working over-time. "What if I take some polyjuice potion and then he'll think that I'm Dumbledore. Then it'll be just him and me, exactly how I wanted it!"

"I don't know, Harry," Jack said worriedly. "I'd feel better if you had some back-up. I don't even know that Dumbledore will go for it."

Harry nodded to himself. "He will, I know he will. He always lets me put myself in danger for the greater good."

"Harry…"

"No, it's alright." Harry smiled. "This time I _want _to do it. It's exactly what I want."

Jack still didn't feel right about it.

"Look, I was set up as bait before and you never worried," Harry pointed out, somewhat annoyed.

"Yes, but, you weren't alone," Jack disputed.

"I don't care." Harry knew he sounded like a petulant child but he didn't care. This was what he wanted to do, and it sure beat waiting around the cold and lonely battle camp for the Dark Lord to make his move.

"Alright, kiddo." Jack could see that Harry was determined. "We'll talk it over with Remus in the morning."

"Fine," Harry huffed. "But he'll agree with me."

"I doubt it," Jack snorted.

Harry glared in annoyance and turned away to change for bed.

"G'night Harry," Jack smiled in amusement as he slowly shut the door.

"G'night," Harry answered shortly.

Jack chuckled and walked off to his own room.

"It has merit…" Remus said thoughtfully, scratching his chin.

Harry grinned in triumph before spooning another heap of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

Alice smiled in satisfaction as Harry gulped down her breakfast. She was happy to see the boy eating a proper meal.

Jack merely rolled his eyes over the rim of his coffee mug.

"It's exactly what Harry wants," Remus continued.

"That's what I said!" Harry exalted cheerfully.

"Please don't speak with your mouth full," Jack grimaced.

Harry smirked as he chewed.

"You are right about Dumbledore though, Jack," Remus pointed out. "He may not agree with this plan, and it won't work without his co-operation."

"Nonsense," Harry stated, putting down his fork. "We can get a hair off of him behind his back if we have to."

"Harry, you can't trick Dumbledore."

"Bollocks, there's lots he doesn't know about what went on Hogwarts," Harry argued.

"Or lots he _pretended _he didn't know."

Harry felt annoyed. "Whatever, we have to try."

"And what about the ingredients?" Remus pressed. "It's so hard to find potion ingredients these days."

Harry sighed, picking up his fork once more. "I know, that's the only problem."

Harry paused and looked up at Remus.

"There is someone who will have the ingredients, but I don't want to see them and they sure as hell don't want to see me."

Remus glanced at Jack. "Harry, she'll never-"

"I know," Harry cut across him sharply. "But as much as I don't like it, I have to try. For Draco."

Remus shut his mouth and the kitchen fell into silence.

"She?" Alice interrupted curiously.

"Hermione Granger," Remus answered dully.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry remained hidden in the shadows of one of the old dilapidated buildings of Diagon Alley. The place was no longer an exciting hub of witches and wizards, but had become a wasteland of abandoned buildings and rubble.

Though business was scarce, a few shops continued to remain open; Gringotts, The Daily Prophet offices, Ollivanders, and Flourish and Blotts.

Harry stared hard at the grimy window of Flourish and Blotts, trying to see who was within.

He'd read in the Prophet that Hermione and Ron had taken over the shop twelve months ago, and the rumour going around the battle camps was that the two Gryffindors were secretly providing magical ingredients to Aurors and fighters to aid in the war.

Harry just hoped that the rumours were true, and that he wasn't wasting his time with his ex best friend.

Harry took a deep breath, draped his cloak over his face so as not to be recognized, and quickly walked across the cobbled street towards the book shop.

A dusty golden bell chimed above the creaky door as Harry pushed his way inside.

The shop appeared to be empty, books half-hazardly resting on shelves and tables and even in great piles on the floor.

"Can I help you?"

Harry started at the sweet voice and turned to see Ginny Weasley standing by the staircase.

"Harry…?" Her brown eyes widened and her mouth gaped as she took in the familiar green eyes.

"Ginny…" Harry didn't know what to say. He hadn't seen any of Ron's family since being released from Grace. He'd been so focused on his task that he'd almost forgotten they even existed.

And now here Ginny stood, older, small lines of exhaustion around her eyes and mouth, but prettier somehow than he remembered.

Ginny hesitated the slightest bit then ran to embrace Harry whole-heartedly.

"Oh Harry," she cried joyfully. "I've missed you so much!"

Harry froze, dumbfounded.

Ginny pulled back and giggled at his expression.

"Just because the rest of my family are acting like prats doesn't mean that I have to," she explained.

Harry slowly smiled, relief flooding his body. "I didn't know… I thought you all hated me."

Ginny's eyes darkened slightly. "I know. I'm sorry, Harry. I wanted to find you and give you my support but… they're still my family and it's a frightening time to be alone."

Harry knew that all too well.

"Sorry, Harry," Ginny quickly realised what she had said.

Harry smiled and gave her hand a quick squeeze. "It's okay, I'm not alone. I've got Remus and some other friends. And Dumbledore."

Ginny bit her lip. "I heard about Dumbledore losing his post as headmaster because of his helping you."

Harry nodded. "I know. Hopefully things will go back to normal after I've-"

The sudden smash of breaking glass made the pair spin around in surprise.

Hermione stood in the cobwebbed doorway leading to the back room, a broken vial of dark purple liquid now swirling at her feet.

"'Mione," Ginny welcomed cautiously. "Look who's here."

"I can see," Hermione replied without emotion. "What do you want, Harry? Besides making my shop a target."

Harry took a deep breath. "I need… some help."

"You won't find it here," Hermione answered stiffly.

Ginny opened her mouth in outrage, but Harry stopped her from speaking by gently placing a hand on her arm.

"It's okay, Ginny," he spoke calmly. "Would you mind leaving the two of us alone?"

"Yes I would," she grumbled, clearly upset. "But I'll go."

Ginny gave Harry one last quick hug before marching to the back room, glaring at Hermione as she passed.

Hermione waited until the red-head had left before removing a white cloth from her pocket and beginning to clean up the mess at her feet.

Harry stood by awkwardly, not sure how to begin. A feeling of dread, like he'd just made a huge mistake by coming here, was now creeping up on him.

Hermione dumped the broken glass and soiled cloth into a nearby bin and wiped her hands on the well-used apron tied around her waist.

She seemed to be avoiding his gaze.

Harry cleared his throat. "Uh… I heard that you may…um, be keeping things here that I…need," he finished lamely.

Hermione finally looked up.

"And what would that be?" she asked coolly.

Harry suddenly felt annoyance at his ex-friend's ridiculous behaviour.

"I need the ingredients for Polyjuice," he spoke strongly, his anger fuelling his courage.

Hermione raised a brow. "And what makes you think we sell that sort of thing in a book shop?"

Harry wanted to run over and throttle her. Could his sexuality really be that much of a problem for this intelligent witch who used to be so level-headed and caring?

"Stop speaking like that!" Harry surprised even himself with the outburst.

Hermione's cool mask flickered slightly.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry continued, walking towards her. "How can you be so…heartless? What happened to you?"

Hermione looked away. "I don't have what you're looking for, Harry, so… so please leave."

Harry came to a stop a meter away from her.

"Hermione," he said with hurt. "I never thought you'd lie to me."

Hermione's eyes blazed as she finally turned back towards him.

"You lied to _us, _Harry!" she said vehemently. "To _all _of us. Not only were you _gay_," she spat the word with disgust, "but you were sleeping with that traitor Malfoy!"

Harry's hands balled into fists at his side.

"Don't you dare say his name!" he warned angrily. "And I wasn't hiding my relationship from you because I didn't fall in love with him until we were in Grace."

"Love," Hermione said in disgust. "That's not love. You're in some sick twisted fantasy, and Malfoy's bewitched you somehow to make you think it's okay."

Harry wanted to slap her.

"You don't really believe that," he said evenly. "Or else you would've tried to help me. You wouldn't have abandoned me."

Hermione turned to leave but Harry grabbed her arm.

"Don't you dare turn your back on me!" he said furiously.

Hermione cowered, her hands reflexively coming to clutch her stomach.

That's when Harry noticed for the first time that Hermione was pregnant. The evidence of a slight baby bump under her dress.

Harry released her arm in shock.

"Please don't hurt me, Harry," Hermione spoke with emotion for the first time.

Harry swallowed. "You know I'd never hurt you…" He ran a hand through his dark hair and closed his eyes. "Is it Ron's?"

"Of course it is," Hermione took a few steps back and sat down on one of the many stacks of books littering the floor.

"Well how would I know? I haven't seen you for a year."

Hermione sighed, her feet ached and she was beyond exhausted.

"Where is Ron?" Harry asked distractedly, glancing at the back door. He was hoping not to have to confront him as well.

"He's at home," Hermione answered. "He was hurt in a Death Eater attack a few weeks ago, but he'll be fine."

"I'm glad to hear it," Harry said, somewhat ineptly.

"Are you?" Hermione snipped.

Harry sighed. "Please don't start arguing again. You're the ones who've stopped caring. You'd be happy to hear that I'd been injured - or killed."

Hermione looked taken aback. "Of course we wouldn't. We're not friends anymore but we certainly don't want you dead, Harry."

"I can't believe you hate me for something I can't control!" Harry exploded. "You're just the same as all those who hated you for being a mud blood!"

"But you _can _control who you date!"

Harry frowned. "So is it the fact that I like boys or the fact that I like _that _boy that bothers you all so much?" he said heatedly.

Hermione fidgeted uneasily. "It's…both. But mostly because it's Malfoy. He's evil Harry-"

"Stop!" Harry held up a hand to keep her from saying anything that might enrage him further. "Please just stop."

Hermione nodded and remained silent.

"Can I say something?" Harry asked quietly after a moment.

Hermione looked up curiously.

"Draco was all I had in that prison," he tried to explain haltingly. "It was me who went after him actually, not the other way around. So if there was any bewitching going on, it was all on my side."

Harry fidgeted with one of the nearby books, stroking one finger through the coat of dust on its cover as he continued.

"He saved my life in there - on more than one occasion. He changed. Or at least, he began to show me the real Draco Malfoy. He was open and honest, and caring."

He looked back to Hermione.

"He loved me Hermione, and I loved him. I still do. And it seems so strange to me to know that this pure blissful feeling in my heart sickens the rest of the wizarding world." Harry's voice broke a little. "That if they weren't all depending on me to save their lives, then I would've been outcast for good. Maybe they still will, even after this is all over…

I don't care though, as long as I have Draco."

Hermione remained silent for a moment, gazing thoughtfully at her growing belly.

"And you're using Polyjuice to defeat Voldemort?" she asked quietly.

"It's part of the plan, yes."

Hermione sighed and laced her fingers together over her stomach.

"Alright, Harry," she acquiesced. "I'll give you what you need, but only because I want my baby to grow up in a world where there is no war. No Voldemort."

"_And no bigotry," _Harry wanted to add but he merely nodded, relieved.

"Wait here."

Harry watched curiously as Hermione stood and climbed one of the rickety ladders leaning up against the tall book shelves.

She withdrew one of the heavy tomes and returned to Harry.

"Here it is," she said, placing the book on the desk beside him.

"Uh Hermione, I already know _how _to make it…"

Hermione smiled for the first time since their meeting. "Watch."

The young witch muttered a few words of magic under her breath, extracting her wand from her pocket. She tapped her wand tip lightly against the book's worn binding a few times then waited.

The book's great cover quivered slightly then opened, revealing a small metal chest hidden within.

"You'll find everything you need in there," she explained, somewhat proudly. "Just take it."

Harry marvelled at the brilliance of it as he took the chest. He then looked around the entire shop, taking in all the books that perhaps held more secret chests inside.

Hermione noticed his roving eyes. "Yes, there's more, but please don't tell anyone."

Harry looked back at his old friend; the same frizzy hair sticking up all over, same spattering of light freckles across her nose, and the same intelligent brown eyes.

Harry's heart ached a little to know how much distance there was between them now.

"Thanks," he managed to say hoarsely. "I appreciate this."

Hermione nodded, her smile fading. "Well, goodbye Harry. Good luck."

Harry hesitated. "You know, there was a time when you would've refused to let me tackle Voldemort on my own."

Hermione's own heart ached at Harry's words, but she didn't show it.

"Yes, well, I've got others to think about now," she said, stroking her round belly fondly.

Harry smiled at the motherly gesture. "Thanks again," he said. "And say goodbye to Ginny for me won't you?"

Hermione nodded and looked up, but Harry had already gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry's health improved vastly over the next few weeks. His belief in the new plan kept him happy as he and Remus concentrated on brewing the Polyjuice potion together. His appetite returned and he was even sleeping through most nights now without any nightmares.

Remus was pleased - and relieved - to see the colour back in Harry's skin and the sparkle in those emerald eyes. He was now feeling more confident in Harry's ability to stand up to Voldemort when the time came.

There was still one last obstacle to overcome though…

Harry paced the floor restlessly, glancing up at the clock every few seconds.

"Harry, relax," Remus said from a nearby armchair. "He'll be here."

Harry stopped and perched rigidly on the edge of the sofa. "I know, but… I still don't know what I'm going to say to him."

Remus uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. "You are going to tell him about the plan and ask for his assistance. We're not lying to him Harry."

"But what if he doesn't agree?" Harry urged, feeling stressed. "We've put so much work into this already!"

Remus was tired of having the same argument over and over again with the boy. They weren't going to have any answers until Dumbledore himself was here.

"Harry-"

Remus was interrupted by a light rapping at the door.

"He's here!" Harry jumped up and practically ran to open the door.

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling, as he took in Harry's healthy appearance.

"You're looking well, Harry," he observed. "Glad to see it."

Harry tried to smile but his insides were all knotted up in anxiety.

"Please have a seat, Albus," Remus motioned to the forest green armchair opposite him.

Dumbledore relaxed back into the old chair, propping his feet up near the crackling fireplace.

Harry returned to the sofa, watching his old headmaster carefully.

"Are you hungry, Albus?" Remus enquired pleasantly.

Harry nearly bit through his tongue to keep quiet, wanting to get straight to business.

Dumbledore smiled, glancing at Harry. "No thank you, Remus. I think Harry might have something rather important that he wants to say to me."

Harry swallowed nervously. "Erm… I have a plan to get Voldemort to come to me."

"Oh?" Dumbledore raised a brow with interest.

"Yes, uh…" Harry cleared his throat and continued in a rush. "We're brewing Polyjuice so that Voldemort will think that I'm you and show up to meet you- er me, for a duel."

"I see," Dumbledore said thoughtfully after a moment's silence. "And you have already managed to procure the ingredients for Polyjuice?"

"Yes sir," Harry nodded. "It's nearly ready. We just need-"

"Me," Dumbledore smiled a little. "Very clever Mr Potter."

Harry relaxed somewhat.

"And what do you propose to do once you are face to face with him?" the headmaster continued with interest.

"Same plan as before," Harry answered intently. "I'll give you the signal and you'll have the portkey."

Dumbledore nodded, sitting back and stroking his beard.

"You do realise, Harry, that Voldemort will not hesitate in killing me - _you _- on sight. He does not possess any hidden ideals of capturing me and using me to serve his own purpose, nor does he feel the need to draw out my death."

Harry hesitated, not having thought of that before. "Yes, but I'll be ready for him. I've fought him off before."

"But Voldemort would not have used his full magical abilities to defeat you, he would've toyed with you a little, drawing out the pleasure."

Harry knew that was true. Voldemort had never wanted to kill him immediately. He was not scared of Harry like he was of Dumbledore.

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I'll be ready for him."

Dumbledore looked to Remus. "And you agree with this course of action?"

Remus glanced at Harry before answering. "Yes, strangely enough I do. I believe in him."

Harry smiled, blushing at his ex-professor's heartfelt words of support.

Dumbledore smiled at them both. "Alright," he acquiesced reluctantly. "You have my full support and co-operation."

Harry grinned, his heart soaring. "Thank you sir."

"I suppose you'll be needing this." Dumbledore delved into the pocket of his robes and pulled forth a small bundle of his long silver hair.

Harry gaped. "You knew?"

Remus chuckled as Harry took the bundle of hair in wonderment.

"Now, how about some supper?" Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together and rising.

Remus nodded and the two walked into the kitchen companionably, leaving Harry behind to gaze after the headmaster in shock.

* * *

Harry wrung his hands together nervously, staring down at the opened letter on the table.

The beautiful script writing in green ink said:

'_Dearest Albus, _

_I must say I was not surprised by your letter. I did wonder how long it would be before we would meet for the last time, and I am pleased to see that you have left Potter out of it. Is that because you do not wish your golden boy to view your death? You can not protect him forever Albus, and once you are out of the way…_

_I am sure you have thought this through though. I will meet you in the clearing at nine o'clock - alone as promised._

_Sincerely,_

_Voldemort'_

Harry felt a chill run up the back of his spine as he re-read the foreboding words once again. For the first time since hatching the idea for this plan, he was frightened. It had been such a long time since he'd done any proper duelling or even used great amounts of magic, that he was questioning his ability to carry this off.

"Harry?"

Harry started at the sound of Remus' soft voice.

"Y-yes?"

Remus entered Harry's small make-shift tent, eyes flicking momentarily to the letter on the table.

"The potion is ready."

Harry suddenly found it hard to breath. He bent over, hands on knees, eyes closed.

"Harry!" Remus cried out and immediately went to the boy's side, putting both arms around him and holding him steady.

Harry forced his breathing to slow, trying to inhale properly and calm his racing heart.

"Don't do this, Harry," Remus said, clearly upset. "We'll find another way."

Harry opened his eyes and slowly straightened up.

"No," he said breathlessly, shaking his head. "I can't wait any longer. _Draco _can't wait any longer."

Remus pressed his lips together and said nothing. He knew there was no use arguing when Harry mentioned the blonde Slytherin.

"I'm alright now," Harry said, his panic attack receding.

Remus hesitated before pulling the bubbling bottle of Polyjuice from his bag.

Harry took the bottle of thick, dark potion without hesitation and popped the cork. He remembered the vile smell only too well from his second year at Hogwarts.

"Good luck, Harry," Remus said emotionally.

Harry braced himself before downing the nasty liquid.

The transformation was the same as he remembered as well; a slightly painful and out of body experience.

Remus waited patiently for the transformation to be complete, the experience reminding him of his own horrible transformations.

Harry dry heaved into a nearby bucket, sweat dripping down his face. He was crouched on the floor, shivering from the after effects of the potion.

When his stomach had settled a little, he picked up the hand mirror that he had left on the chair earlier.

Albus Dumbledore blinked back at him from the mirror's shiny reflection.

Harry smiled, watching as Dumbledore grinned simultaneously.

Remus sighed, relieved that the worst of the change was over.

"Here Harry." Remus walked over and handed Harry a small hand towel and a pair of Dumbledore's spectacles.

Harry quickly mopped the cooling sweat from his skin and placed the glasses on his now long and crooked nose.

"I feel old," was all Harry could say as he slowly got to his feet.

"You are old, _Albus_," Remus said in amusement.

Harry laughed. "Now I know how it feels to be a hundred and fifty years old."

Remus smiled and handed Harry the rest of his "costume."

As Harry changed, Remus removed tiny vials of Polyjuice from his leather bag and set them on the table.

"I'm ready."

Remus looked over and saw that Harry's look was indeed complete.

"Here you are," Remus said, handing over the blue vials. "There should be enough there for eight hours. I doubt you'll need that many, but just in case…"

Harry nodded, his sudden nauseasness having nothing to do with the Polyjuice this time.

"You'd better go." Remus swallowed his fears, not wanting to upset the boy. "It's nearly time. You'll have one hour."

Harry rushed forward and clung to him. "Thanks Remus, for everything."

Lupin nodded mutely, afraid to speak.

Harry finally pulled back and lifted his chin. "I can do this," he said firmly.

Remus nodded. "Just think of Draco."

Harry's eyes shone, imagining their reunion.

Remus smiled in satisfaction and apparated away with a loud pop.

Harry/Dumbledore picked up his wand and exited the tent.

The stars were shining brightly overhead as Harry quickly jumped astride his broom and flew off to the intended meeting point, keeping low to the ground.

The spot was a large clearing in the forest not far from Godric's Hollow. Harry had set up his tent not far from the clearing, so as to get as much time as possible out of the potion before it wore off.

Harry was there in a matter of seconds. He landed amongst the dense forest and quickly stowed his broom away in the thick bushes.

Harry peered out into the shadowed clearing, trying to spot any signs of life or movement. It was silent and empty.

He took a deep breath, clutching his wand to his side, and emerged into the open meadow.

He'd only been standing there for five minutes, though it felt like hours, when from across the clearing a lone pale figure emerged into the moonlight opposite him.

Voldemort had arrived.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry gripped his wand tightly and strode forward. His eyes glued intently to Voldemort's ugly white face and watching eyes. The Dark Lord stood patiently, watching as Harry came to a stop in the middle of the empty grove.

He didn't want to speak first, fearful of giving away his true identity. His whole body felt hot and on edge, his every nerve humming with fear and anticipation. His throat was dry and thick, he refused to even swallow as that would be a sign of fear. Dumbledore never showed fear.

Voldemort finally moved, walking casually to stand opposite Harry, taking his time, beady eyes appraising.

Harry stood his ground, wanting to run and wanting to kill all at once.

"Professor…" The right corner of the Dark Lord's lips lifted in a sneer as he spoke. "How good of you to invite me to this little…meeting. How can I be of service?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, his mind working wildly, relieved that he had piqued Voldemort's curiosity enough to keep the wizard from trying to kill him on the spot.

Dumbledore always called Voldemort by his real name, but for the life of him, Harry suddenly couldn't remember what it was. He panicked, thinking frantically.

Voldemort's evil smile deepened at Harry's silence.

"You're losing your touch Albus," he said with apparent pleasure. "Don't tell me you have nothing to say to me, or have I rendered you speechless?"

Harry blinked, his mind finally focusing.

"No Tom," he spoke without a trace of nervousness. "I have much to say to you."

"Oh?" Voldemort raised one hairless brow with interest, eyes glinting.

Harry nodded thoughtfully, gathering his thoughts. "I want this war to be over but you clearly are in no hurry to bring it to a close. Why is it you hide yourself away from us when all you desire is to meet us face to face? Is it winning that you desire or is it the battle that you revel in?"

"Psychology was never your strong part Albus." Voldemort smiled, showing a glimpse of horrible pointed teeth. "I enjoy all of it of course, but what is a final battle without anticipation? Your side is weak Albus, your patience running so obviously thin with all these little games you're playing to somehow trick me into coming to you."

Voldemort suddenly lost his smile, eyes burning.

"But I do not take orders from you!" he hissed.

"You're here now," Harry couldn't resist pointing out.

Voldemort visibly calmed and turned away from him. "I must confess I was intrigued with this turn of events," he continued. "It's not often the great Dumbledore will humble himself to consent to my presence - _alone_."

Harry's hand tightened on his wand.

"Are you going to fight me old man?" Voldemort asked with indifference, looking off into the darkened woods.

"And win," Harry said with conviction.

Those haunting red eyes looked deep into his face, searching.

"A little blood thirsty aren't we, _Albus_?"

Harry didn't like the emphasis on the headmaster's name.

"I'm tired of your games Tom," Harry replied evenly. "This needs to stop."

"I agree," Voldemort replied pleasantly. "But you know I don't play fair dear Professor."

Harry narrowed his eyes and was about to speak when movement out of the corner of his eye made him look beyond the Dark Lord into the edge of the secluded forest.

As Harry's eyes scanned the border of trees, he could make out dark figures in black robes hovering just out of reach of the moonlight. Harry's heart raced as he looked back to Voldemort. His window of opportunity was fast closing.

He had known Voldemort wasn't going to come alone, but now that the moment had arrived he felt vulnerable and small, and not nearly powerful enough. Maybe the real Dumbledore should've been here instead.

Harry swallowed his nerves and tried to appear unfazed by this turn of events.

"How very predictable of you Tom," he said. "Still frightened of your old headmaster. Can't face me without your loyal followers?"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed, the glowing slits making his face even more snake-like.

"They are merely a precaution," he answered slowly. "I did not believe that you would come alone either Albus. I do believe your _own _group of pathetic followers are hiding nearby, waiting."

Harry smiled. "No, they're miles away."

Voldemort's lips pressed together as he came a step closer.

"Liar…" he hissed quietly. "They wouldn't risk their great leader. Potter would never let you place yourself at risk."

The Dark Lord's eyes flicked to the other side of the clearing, as if expecting Harry himself to be there.

"That is true," Harry smirked.

Voldemort licked his lips, eyes swerving back to Harry's amused gaze.

"Enough!" Voldemort's patience was obviously running thin. "Stop wasting my time."

Harry didn't wait, he threw his wand tip into the air and shot a bright red streak high into the night sky where it burst into a huge explosion of colour.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry's breath was knocked out of him as a sudden force hit him square in the chest and threw him backwards onto the grass, his head slamming back into the ground.

Harry grunted in pain as he hit the ground, his vision blurring momentarily, wand flying out of his grasp.

Voldemort flew to Harry's prone body and knelt beside him, intense gaze boring into Harry's face.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

Harry opened his eyes and forced a mocking smile. "Albus Dumbledore."

Voldemort paused then pointed his wand at him once more. "Crucio!"

Harry screamed, writhing in the blinding pain of the unforgivable curse.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry gasped as the sudden pain receded, the spell ended. He opened his eyes and forced himself to sit up, body still shaky, brow beaded with perspiration.

Voldemort was lying on the grass opposite him. Harry glanced behind him at the gathered group of witches and wizards who had responded to his signal.

"Stay back!" he shouted as they made to come forward.

Harry looked around for his wand as the waiting Death Eaters converged onto the clearing, running with wands drawn towards them.

Harry leapt to his feet and scooped up his wand from a few meters away.

Voldemort had recovered as well, already on his feet, but without a wand.

Harry quickly pointed his wand at the Dark Lord threateningly."Don't move," he warned. "And call off your henchmen."

Voldemort raised one hand while keeping his eyes glued to Harry. The Death Eaters stopped in their tracks, wands still drawn and waiting.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Now will you tell me who you are?"

Harry swallowed and licked his dry lips. "Harry Potter," he replied, somewhat defiantly.

Voldemort's expression eased, a slow smile crossing his waxy face. "Ah of course… An interesting tactic, if not useless."

Harry glared. "It wasn't useless. All I wanted was to have the chance to meet you face to face again - and here you are."

Voldemort's red eyes flicked momentarily to his wand lying on the ground not far from the pair.

"How did you know that I wasn't Dumbledore?" Harry asked, trying to distract him.

"If you had done your research Mr Potter, then you would've known that Albus Dumbledore was never my headmaster, and you called yourself 'my old headmaster.'"

Harry cursed under his breath for the slip-up. "Doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head. "I have you here now and that's all that matters."

"And I have you," Voldemort's smile deepened, eyes flicking once more to his wand.

"Don't move," Harry warned, giving his own wand a shake as he kept it pointed at the Dark Lord.

Harry started to walk slowly over to Voldemort's wand, eyes glued to his captive prisoner.

As he was about to bend down, an sudden burst of noise and light exploded from behind him.

Harry whipped around to see about half a dozen Death Eaters emerge from the forest, wands pointed at Harry's fallen group of comrades. Every last one of them had been stunned.

"No!" Harry cried in alarm. He quickly turned back around, remembering his prisoner, and made to bend down and grab Voldemort's wand.

"Accio wand!" Voldemort cast the charm before Harry's fingers could touch the wooden wand at his feet.

Voldemort held out an open palm as his wand deftly sailed through the air into it. He closed his long bony fingers around it with a smile, immediately pointing it towards Harry.

Harry tried to focus, but was consumed by a red hot rage. The Ministry members who were a part of that fallen group were supposed to witness Harry capturing Voldemort. They weren't supposed to be stunned and unconscious on the ground.

How was he now supposed to blackmail the Ministry with Voledmort's capture for Draco's release? He wanted to be sure of their co-operation before handing the Dark Lord over.

Harry saw his plan disintegrating in front of his eyes. His heart ached as Draco's imminent release now seemed so impossible.

Unbidden, tears suddenly sprang to his emerald eyes.

"Sorry to ruin the party Mr Potter," Voldemort remarked pleasantly. "But I really must be going. Shall I just kill you now, or would you prefer to draw it out and duel another day?"

Harry lowered his wand. He felt as though any hope he'd had was suddenly drained from his exhausted body. All these years of planning and fighting seemed suddenly for nothing.

"I have a date with Azkaban later tonight so I really cannot wait for your indecisiveness Mr Potter."

Harry's head jerked up. "What do you mean?" he demanded quickly.

Voldemort raised a brow with interest. "Why so curious? Do you perhaps have a favour to ask of me while I'm there?"

It suddenly dawned on Harry that Voldemort had planned this from the beginning. Of course Voldemort knew of Harry and Draco's affair, it had been printed in every newspaper in the country. Harry wasn't the one that was going to be using blackmail tonight - Voldemort was.

Harry knew he was playing with fire with his answer, that Voldemort couldn't be trusted, but… he was out of options. And patience.

"And what do you want in exchange for this favour?" Harry asked, not quite believing the words that were coming out of his mouth. It was almost as if someone else were speaking and he was merely watching from afar.

Voldemort seemed to relish the answer. "You, Mr Potter."

"Dead?" Harry asked stupidly.

Voldemort's eyes gleamed. "No. I want you for myself Mr Potter. To keep in the dark and away from Dumbledore's guiding light. To take away their 'hero'."

"Why not just kill me?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Because the great Harry Potter working alongside myself would do more damage then a dead martyr. Your death would only fuel their anger and persistence."

Harry's head was spinning. He couldn't believe he was actually considering Voldemort's offer. He knew he could never fight for the Dark Lord, but if he could get Draco released… then maybe that would be enough.

Draco had given up his life for Harry so why couldn't Harry do it in return?

"How do I know you will do what I ask in return?"

"Because you can come with me and see him for yourself. Tonight."

Harry's heart pounded in his chest. The thought of seeing Draco again. _Tonight _even.

He knew he was lost.

Harry glanced behind him once more at the fallen group but there was no movement among them.

He turned back to Voldemort with determination. "What do you want me to do?"

Voldemort's eyes positively glowed in excitement. "Hand over your wand."

Harry hesitated, looking down at the Holly and Phoenix feather friend that had been in his possession all these years.

"We can't have you armed at the moment Harry Potter," Voldemort continued at Harry's reluctance. "It may be returned to you one day."

Harry gripped his wand tightly and looked up. "I want to keep it until Draco is released."

"Fine," Voldemort nodded shortly.

"And Draco must be allowed to go free," Harry said firmly. "He doesn't remain a prisoner of yours."

"I swear," Voldemort bowed his head in assent.

Harry didn't trust him but it was the best he could do.

"Alright, I'm ready."

Voldemort smiled and motioned to his Death Eaters. The black robed figures disappeared with a pop.

"Come Harry Potter," the Dark Lord beckoned to him.

Harry felt sick as he stepped forward and took Voldemort's arm; as he willingly grasped the arm of his parents' murderer.

They apparated away from the quiet forest grove together.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry stumbled and almost fell to his knees as the ground suddenly came rushing up to meet him. He immediately released his hold on Voldemort's arm and looked around.

The crumbling turrets of Azkaban towered over him. He and Voldemort were standing on the rocky outcrop just before the large gates of the infamous wizarding prison, the raging ocean at their backs. The sky around Azkaban was always black; the sun did not exist here. There were flickering lights through the windows, the stones of the castle were dark grey and covered in a slick coating of weeds and moss. Moisture dripping down between the cracks.

Harry looked up and scanned the stormy skies for Dementors.

"Do not trouble yourself, Mr Potter," Voldemort said, watching the boy. "The Dementors are under my control."

Harry swallowed and nodded. His hand, slick with perspiration, tightened around his wand.

"Now what?" he asked, staring at the large wooden gates before them. He shifted his weight anxiously, he was so close.

Voldemort smiled down at him, his red eyes icy and appraising. "Now we go take back what is ours."

Harry jumped a little as Death Eaters appeared all around them, wands drawn and at the ready.

They all looked to Voldemort, waiting. Harry included.

Voldemort gave a slight nod and the Death Eaters rushed forth, the gate opening at their approach.

Harry didn't waste a second. He lifted his wand and sprinted after them. He passed through the large forbidding gates, the stone gargoyles glaring down at him, and up to the front doors. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Voldemort still standing where he'd left him.

Harry braced himself and pushed through the heavy iron doors.

The noise and heat inside hit him like a solid wall, crushing in on him as he stood looking around. There were screams and yells coming from every corner, the noise of battle and duelling, the stench took Harry's breath away. Human excrement and piss and sweat...

Harry gagged and closed his eyes a second before pushing on. He stumbled forwards and headed for the first door he could see.

He entered a large hall that looked like it had once been used for dining, but everything was coated in dust and filth, the furniture broken and lying in pieces all over the floor and tables.

Harry ran across the dusty stones and pushed through to the next room. Here he found what appeared to be one of guard stations. It was fairly neat and tidy, with papers and folders lying on the desk. Harry picked up a large ring with keys on it, wondering if they opened the cells.

Underneath the keys he suddenly noticed that the papers were actually lists of prisoners.

Harry tossed aside the keys and grabbed up the parchment, his heart racing. Frantically he searched for Draco's name.

His heart stopped when he saw Amari written in flowing script. He'd forgotten that his old friend from Grace was here. Harry checked to see if there was a location next to the names but it was obviously in code and he didn't understand the symbols.

Harry glanced at all the papers littering the desk. He didn't have time to search through them all.

With a shout of frustration, Harry turned and bolted from the room. He ran back through the dining hall and out to the front entrance area.

The deafening roar of noise assaulted his ears again as he stood there, trying to decide which route to take next. He felt helpless as he thought of how large the prison looked from the outside. It would take him days to find Draco.

Harry stood there panting, eyes wildly looking from door to door.

A prison guard – a human prison guard – came bolting through the right-side door and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Harry.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, lowering his wand. "Harry Potter?"

Harry looked at this man and raised his wand, directing it straight at him.

The guard's eyes widened in fear. "But...you..."

Harry quickly walked towards him. "Give me your wand," he ordered.

The guard trembled, his hand shaking as he dropped his wand into Harry's outstretched hand. "I thought you were good..." he whispered.

Harry's eyes dimmed a little but he spoke sharply. "Not tonight I'm afraid. I came here for one purpose and one purpose only, and you're going to help me."

The guard swallowed, sweat rolling down his temples, eyes locked on Harry in fear.

"Where is Draco Malfoy?" Harry enunciated very clearly, eyes boring deep into the hazel depths of the prison guard.

"M-malfoy?" the guard stammered.

Harry nodded, lifting his wand a little higher until it was level with the guard's eyes.

"I-I'm not sure..."

"Liar!" Harry roared and the man cowered.

Harry took a steadying breath and took a step back. He meant this man no harm and he was getting carried away.

"Please," Harry tried again, more gently. "Tell me where he is and I'll let you go."

The man licked his lips. "I'm telling you the truth. I know he's in cell block H but I... I don't know where exactly. That block is q-quite big..."

Harry lowered his wand slightly. "Can you take me there?"

The guard shook his head wildly. "I'm not going back out there, they'll kill me!"

Harry glanced back towards the entrance doors. "You don't want to go that way either," he warned. "Voldemort is waiting there."

The guard looked ready to faint.

"Take me to block H and I'll see that you arrive there safely," Harry promised. "Then hide there until this is all over."

The guard nodded, his eyes flicking down to his wand in Harry's other hand.

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, I can't give this to you. I'll protect you." Harry took a few steps back. "Now move."

The guard turned and headed back through the door that he had come through. Harry followed along behind, wand still pointed at his back.

The noise level increased in the dim corridor that Harry found himself in, the smell even worse.

Suddenly a Death Eater rounded the corner, wand drawn.

Harry halted in his tracks and grabbed his prisoner to him, holding him in front of his body, wand stuck to his throat.

The Death Eater seemed to hesitate then took off past them down the corridor.

Harry released the breath he'd been holding and lowered his wand.

The guard whimpered pitiably.

Harry momentarily felt sorry for the young prison guard, but he had a task to do.

"Move," Harry shoved him forwards.

They continued their trek through the winding corridors. Harry removed his cloak and tossed it aside as the heat threatened to engulf him. His skin was sticky with sweat, his hair plastered to his head. He realised then that he hadn't even noticed the transformation back to his own self, the polyjuice potion long forgotten.

After what felt like wandering the corridors for hours, Harry followed his hostage up a long flight of stone steps.

Harry's breath quickened as they made their way towards a large door with a rusty letter 'H' on it.

"H-here," the guard stuttered, looking back at Harry and pointing his finger at the door.

Harry nodded, his heart hammering inside his chest. "Is there a list of where each prisoner is?"

The guard shook his head.

Harry swallowed. "Open the door."

The guard nervously shuffled over to the door and opened it, the rusty hinges screeching.

Harry winced at the noise and strode over to look inside.

There was no noise here, just a deathly stillness. It was a cell block very much like the ones in Grace, the same formation of open space and rows of cells lining the outside walls. Yet here in Azkaban the floor was covered in filth, the cell doors rusted, cobwebs criss-crossed everywhere, there was no light, only darkness. No one cared for this place. The prisoners here did not ever leave their cells.

Harry bit his lip hard to keep from crying out. This place was truly a living nightmare.

"C-c-can I go now?"

Harry turned towards his prisoner. "Get in there," he ordered, flicking his wand towards the nearest cell door.

The guard's eyes widened. "No one will ever find me..."

"I'll make sure they do," Harry promised sincerely. "Just do as I say."

The guard walked towards the iron door and put a hand on the symbol. The door trembled slightly and then opened outwards.

"Wait!" Harry cried out. "Will the cell doors open for me?"

"Yes," he nodded. "If you use my wand then it will recognise my magic. The doors only open for registered guards."

Harry watched as the guard turned and walked into the empty cell.

"How many prisoners are in this area?" he asked.

"Not many."

"Thanks," Harry said simply.

The guard nodded and sat down, drawing his knees up to his chin and watching Harry warily.

Harry flicked his wand and the door slammed shut, enclosing the guard within. Harry quickly cast a spell so that the door would unlock itself after two hours.

Harry turned and took a deep breath. He slowly walked down the row of cells, noticing that there were dusty brass name plaques beside each door. He kept walking until he saw one with writing on it.

Harry couldn't decipher what the name was. He placed the tip of the guard's wand to the symbol and waited as the door opened.

Harry lifted his own wand and peered inside. The stench made his nose wrinkle and his eyes water. It was the stench of rotting flesh. A body lay in the scattered straw, wearing striped prison garb.

Harry backed out, coughing and holding a hand to his throat.

It was not Draco. It appeared to be an old man that had simply died in here. And no one had taken any notice.

Harry straightened up and looked around. There were so many cells...

"Draco!" Harry shouted into the eerie stillness. "Draco!"

He shouted and shouted until his throat felt raw. He bent over, coughing, his eyes squeezed shut.

His only answer was silence.

Harry straightened up and kept walking, waiting to pass another door with a name on it. He wondered how long he had before Voldemort came looking for him.

Harry stopped abruptly, the blood draining from his face, his pulse quickening.

There it was again. Three distinct bangs from somewhere down below him.

"Draco..." Harry breathed.

Harry bolted for the stairs in the centre of the block and almost tumbled down them in his haste. He paused again at the bottom, holding his breath as he waited for the noise.

A minute passed with nothing.

Then, bang bang bang!

Harry ran for the last few cell doors on the left side and scanned the name plaques.

'Draco Malfoy' was scripted on the third one, the lettering still fairly recent looking compared to the others.

"Draco!" Harry shouted in relief. He withdrew the guard's wand and placed it to the symbol. The door shook and began to open.

Harry's breath caught in his throat as he looked inside. There was his beloved Draco, kneeling on the floor in torn prison clothes, holding a steel cup in one hand and squinting up at him.

"Draco!" the name broke on his lips as Harry threw himself inside and onto his knees, tears already leaking from his emerald eyes.

"...Harry...?" Draco's voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper, but it was music to Harry's ears. "Is it really you..?"

"Yes." Harry nearly sobbed as he looked into those beautiful silver grey eyes and saw that his Draco was still there inside. He hadn't been broken.

Draco's eyes filled with tears as he slowly raised one hand to touch Harry's cheek, his grimy fingers stroking the soft skin with reverence.

Harry sighed and leaned into the heavenly touch, not taking his eyes off of his lover. He was afraid Draco would disappear again.

"You came..." Draco said in wonderment.

"Of course I did," Harry said quietly. "I never break a promise."

Draco slowly smiled, still amazed. "Help me up?" he asked.

Harry got to his feet and reached down to grasp the blond gently by the arms and pull him up. He was surprised by how light Draco felt. Like there was nothing to him.

Harry surveyed the Slytherin's appearance; taking in the hollowed eyes and cheeks, the filthy clothes and hair, and the bony wrists poking out from the ragged sleeves.

Draco's smile dimmed a little. "I'm sorry I'm not...I'm not like how you remember me Harry."

Harry's wandering gaze returned to Draco's face. "I've never seen anything so beautiful," he said honestly. "You have no idea how much..." he broke off and shook his head.

"Harry..." Draco wrapped his arms around his love and pulled him close.

Harry shook in his embrace as he cried. "I love you," he whispered into Draco's shoulder.

Draco tightened his grip on the precious Gryffindor.

"Ah... Mr Potter, I see you've found what you were looking for."

The two boys jumped, Harry raising his wand in alarm, and looked over to see Voldemort standing at the bottom of the stairs, an evil smile stretching the thin white lips.

"Harry, get behind me," Draco made to stand in front of Harry, his eyes narrowing at the Dark Lord.

Harry didn't move.

"Harry..." Draco trailed off as Harry lowered his wand.

"Good boy," Voldemort nodded, pleased. "Now if you'll follow me, we must be going."

"Harry...?" Draco's confusion was written all over his face.

"Come on Draco," Harry tried to smile reassuringly. "Let's get you out of here."

Draco shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere with him. What's going on?"

Harry's smile faltered. "I made a deal."

"Oh gods... what have you done Harry?" Draco's eyes widened in trepidation.

"It was the only way," Harry whispered brokenly. "It was the only way to get you back."

"You made a deal with the devil?" Draco asked, shocked to the core. "What is he getting in return?"

Harry just shook his head and slipped a hand into his. "Come on," he urged, tugging a little at the blonde's arm. "Let's just go and I'll tell you later."

Draco's eyes flicked to Voldemort's pleased expression then back to Harry. He nodded uncertainly, allowing himself to be propelled forward.

Voldemort turned to leave with the two young men slowly following behind.

Harry's breathing turned uneven as he tried to hold Draco up as they made their way back through the maze of corridors and rooms. Draco's breath was ragged and weak as he sagged more and more against Harry's body.

Draco struggled to keep upright. "I'm sorry Harry."

"Don't apologize," Harry panted. "I would do anything for you."

Draco swallowed past the lump in his throat, wondering what it was that Harry _had_ done for him by making this deal with Voldemort.

They finally made their way outside and through the massive gates.

Voldemort stood in the middle of the circle of his Death Eaters, watching them approach. Harry noticed with a sinking heart that Voldemort's army of Death Eaters had tripled, the rescued dark wizards from Azkaban now amongst them.

"Welcome Mr Malfoy," Voldemort said silkily. "So good of you to join us. I know Harry has been anxious for your return to the real world."

Draco's chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to regain his breath from all the exercise. His body wasn't used to such strenuous activity anymore. He was ashamed of appearing so weak in front of Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

Harry kept his arms firmly locked around the blond, surveying the group of dark wizards surrounding them.

Voldemort's smile widened. "Hand over your wand now Mr Potter."

"Don't," Draco hissed into his ear.

"No," Harry said determinedly. "Not yet. That's not the deal."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed but his smile remained fixed in place. "Alright Mr Potter, a deal is a deal. Come!"

Draco tried to stop him, but Harry moved them forward towards Voldemort's outstretched arm.

"Harry! Are you crazy?" Draco's voice cracked as he tried to shout. He vainly tried to plant his feet on the ground but it was no use, Harry was much stronger.

Harry forced himself to continue forwards until the pair was within reach of Voldemort.

Draco stared up into the Dark Lord's face, never having been so close to him before. The blond trembled and Harry squeezed him tighter.

Before Draco had a chance to protest, Harry lifted their clasped hands and placed them on Voldemort's black cloak sleeve.

The world swirled and moved around them as they apparated away from Azkaban.

Harry stumbled and fell to his knees, losing his grasp on Draco as he did so. He lifted his head and saw that they were back in the forest clearing.

He quickly looked around for the rest of his comrades, but they were nowhere to be seen. They must have all left once they awoke from the stunning spells. Hopefully they didn't go too far, Draco shouldn't be left alone...

With a heavy heart, Harry turned and helped Draco to sit up.

Draco looked pale and half-conscious. "Where are we..?" he gasped, blinking blearily around them.

"In a safe place," Harry said quietly. "Don't worry."

Draco closed his eyes, trying to clear his foggy brain. He was so tired.

"Your wand, Mr Potter?"

Harry looked up into Voldemort's snake-like face as he stood over them, hand outstretched.

Draco watched Harry incredulously as the brunette handed over his wand to the Dark Lord.

"Harry!"

Voldemort smiled and turned away, holding the wand in triumph for his followers to see.

Draco's eyes turned stormy. "Why did you do that Harry?" he demanded. "Why did you rescue me if we're just going to die anyway?"

"You're not going to die Draco," Harry smiled softly and cupped Draco's cheek in one hand, his fingers moving from Draco's cheek through his hair and to the back of his neck.

Harry pulled Draco closer and leaned in to kiss his soft sweet lips.

Draco's eyes fluttered shut as he gave in. It was what he'd been dreaming about for so long...

Then suddenly it was ripped away. Again.

Draco cried out as Harry was grabbed from behind and pulled away. Harry struggled in the Death Eater's grasp, his eyes glued to Draco sitting prone on the ground.

Draco struggled vainly to stand but it was no use, he crumbled back down onto his hands and knees.

"Harry!"

The raspy cry broke Harry's heart in two.

"Leave!" Voldemort ordered his Death Eaters sharply. One by one, the dark hooded figures disappeared, except for the one holding Harry.

Voldemort strode forward and touched Draco's blond hair sweetly.

Harry growled warningly in the back of his throat.

"Such a pity..." Voldemort murmured. "He would be so useful..."

Harry held his breath.

"No matter," Voldemort turned abruptly and faced Harry. "Time to go, Mr Potter."

Draco frowned. "Wait..."

"Better say your goodbyes Potter," the Dark Lord smirked and then was gone.

"Harry..." Draco paled.

"Draco..." Tears fell from Harry's emerald eyes as he looked into the blonde's face for maybe the last time. "I don't regret anything."

"Harry!" Draco cried out as Harry and his captor disappeared into the cold dark night.

Draco's chest wracked with sobs as he collapsed onto his side, left alone in the moonlight, the silence enveloping him.


End file.
